Disenchanted
by MargouxBriar
Summary: What if when Rick came back to Degrassi he didn't have to go it alone? What if someone gave him another chance? Ultimately, what if Jimmy had never been shot but someone else was left to suffer?
1. Chapter 1

I do not own Degrassi: The Next Generation in any way, shape, or form. However the characters that you've never heard before do belong to me. I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 1: Mistakes

Dear Reader,  
Have you ever made a mistake, an irreversible mistake that could only send you crashing further and further down 'till hope on longer existed? Maybe you have, maybe you haven't. What I do know is that if you have, you're the only person who can come close to understanding me.

Mistakes, mistakes, mistakes. My life is riddled with them. Everything seemed to be going so well: I was free of a father who never wanted me, I was going to a new school, I had gotten an amazing boyfriend.

Who know that life would -could- turn on its head. But that's exactly what did happen. And unfortunately I can't undo what's been done.

Thanks for reading. Constructive critism is always welcome. 


	2. Inescapable

Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi: The Next Generation in any shape or form. Although I do own any of the characters that you've never heard of before. I hope you enjoy. 

Chapter 2: Inescapable

Screams capable of waking the dead... a solitary shot... a body crumbles... blood as hot as fire... a plea... skin like ice...

The sound of a bullet tearing its way through flesh and bone awakened me out of the dead of sleep. Taking in the familiar surroundings of my room my breath eased and I fumbled through the darkness for the lamp perched on my bedside table. The onslaught of florescent bulbs left me temperarily blind but I didn't dare close my eyes again.

It was at that moment that I knew the horrific events of that day would plague me as nightmares until the day I died. Nightmares, that seemed about right. There wasn't a better word to describe that day. Nearly two weeks ago my boyfriend snapped. He brought a gun to school, shot a student, and in the end was killed as well. No one cared that Rick had been bullied ruthlessly and even now that he was-

In a fit of blind rage I grabbed one of my pillows and hurled it across the room where it landed on my dresser and sent something crashing to the floor. Groaning beneath my breath, I willed myself to my feet and inspected the damage. Avoiding the shattered glass on the wood floor I cradled the broken picture frame that held our picture. It had been a time when he was my crutch, when I could confide anything and everything to him.

It seemed so long ago.

The weight in my heart seemed to spread through my entire being, and with my legs quivering, I sunk to my knees. It no longer seemed to matter that a piece of glass could impale me; in truth that was the least of my worries, my all ready blood shot eyes burned as hot tears formed, gathered, and slid down my sunken cheeks. In the pale light I curled into a ball and drew my legs to my chest, but the comfort I so craved never came. It never would. There I would lay and shed silent tears 'till it was no longer possible to cry.

I had never been so...

depressed

hollow

enraged

alone

betrayed...

Thanks so much for reading. Don't forget: constructive critisim is always welcome!


	3. Visitation Hour

Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi: The Next Generation in any shape or form. Although I do own any of the characters that you've never heard of before. I hope you enjoy. 

Chapter 3: Visitation Hour

Have you ever seen one of those corny movies where the guy prepares for his "big date"? He rents a tux, washes the car, and buys the girl a bouquet of flowers? This was nothing like that, other than the fact that I too had a bouquet of flowers. As if they could mend all the damage that had been done.

The bitter smell of medication and sickness wafting through the air made my stomach perform somersaults. There was just something about hospitals that made me uneasy; like the fact that although you're surrounded by licensed professionals that could care less whether you lived or died because, not matter what, someone coming in would be twice as screwed over as you.

Room 209. I never wanted to enter but just like those BEWARE signs on supposed haunted houses, curiosity always prevailed.

The door had been left ajar and to be courteous I racked my knuckles against its frame. There was a slight shuffling from within the bed causing my heart to race in anticipation and fear; however I stepped into his line of view and flashed a smile.

"Um hey."

"What are you doing here?" Spinner's question was siding towards curiosity rather than accusatory.

"I wanted to- to drop by and-" I swallowed hard, forcing the bile that threatened to rise and escape, back down. "See how you were doing."

"Jesse, I was shot in the spine. How well can I be doing?"

"I know and- I'm sorry. I brought you these, to cheer you up." I indicated by showing off the flowers and placing them in a vase conveniently located on his bedside table. Although I was staring into the face of the boy who drove my boyfriend, ex- boyfriend, over the edge I couldn't help but feel responsible for his suffering. "Look, Spinner I know that you hate me and who can blame you? But if I know what Rick was going to do I would have stopped him. I swear." He rolled his eyes and attempted to sit up; however from the wincing that was etched on his face I knew he was suppressing his pain. Tenderly yet assertive I placed my handsd against his chest in order to get him to lie back down. Grabbing my wrists he shoved me away.

"Don't- don't you dare. What do you take me for? An idiot?" His last word was strained as he pulled himself into a sitting position. "You know he was a freakin' psycho. Especially after what he did to Terri."

"I'm sorry about what happened to your friend but Rick- he never did anything to hurt me; he never hit me or yelled at me, nothing."

"Lucky you." There were too many emotions coursing through me; all of them fighting one another for control. Like cheerleaders on ritalin and coffee all harping over a mega phone.

"I can't believe this. I just- why would he do this? Why would he just throw everything away?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" My head snapped in his direction. 'Had I said that aloud?'

"I'll never understand him. He threw away everything. His freedom, his family, his future, us. But its over now. He's dead, you've won."

"This has nothing to do with winning."

"Then what is this about?"

"This is about the fact that your boyfriend tried to kill me!" Crossing over to the window I gazed out the hazy panes at the laid-back world beyond these sanitary walls. Clearing my throat I muttered,

"I know and I'm so so sorry. If I could go back in time and change things I would. I can't ask you to forgive him, it wouldn't be fair. Spin-" Crossing my arms over my chest I released a deep sigh and headed for the door. "I shouldn't have come. It was a bad idea."

"Jesse, hang on a sec." Just the words that I had been dying to hear. He gently patted the mattress which I took as a gesture to sit. "You're right. I can't forgive what he did. But at the same time I can't hold what happened against you. Come here." Wrapping his arm around my shoulder I slid down beside him and after a few moments, grew comfortable with my head resting against his chest.

"Spin?"

"Hmm?" Craning my neck I stared into those warm brown eyes, eyes that could cure my heartache and put an end to my lonely suffering.

"I'm sorry.'

"I know. I know." The gentle rise and swell of his chest along with the rhythmic movement of his hand caressing my arm and shoulder was enough to put me at ease. As my eyelids fluttered to a close his presence lulled me to sleep and for the first time in a long time I felt safe- and wanted.

Thanks so much for reading. Don't forget: constructive critisim is always welcome!


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